


Mercy

by votiveviscera



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Boot Worship, Casual Sex, Hand Jobs, Language Kink, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Praise Kink, basic french
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-11-01 03:28:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10913379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/votiveviscera/pseuds/votiveviscera
Summary: A glimpse into Victor and Christophe's relationship pre-Yuuri. Christophe has a praise kink, Victor has a language kink.(Most of the speaking in this is in French. I am not a native speaker, so while I have tried my best and had help from Desperadore, there may be a few mistakes. There will be a translation guide in the notes)





	Mercy

This is what dreams are made of as far as Christophe is concerned. A tall, lithe, beautiful Russian man resting the sole of his heeled boot on Christophe’s crotch. The Russian in question, Victor Nikiforov, is watching him with a disinterested expression, head resting on his hand just so, elbow resting on what Christophe can only refer to as a throne. Dieu, but it suits Victor down to the ground. The boredom, of course, is a front, something they agreed on before hand. It’s fair to say it’s somewhat ruined by the way Victor is gently and rhythmically rocking his foot against Christophe’s cock. The pressure is just right, hard enough for him to feel it, but light enough for him to want more.

It doesn’t take long for him to beg. He’s only human.

“Please, Victor…” Comes a whimper, his eyes staying firmly on the ground. The rocking stops pointedly and Christophe can’t stop the gasp that leaves him.

“Qu'est-ce qu'il y a, Christophe? Je ne comprend pas.” Damn him. Victor’s voice betrays nothing, there’s no tremor, no break. He sounds as calm as ever, and fuck if that doesn’t make things…and him even harder.

“S'il te plaît, Viktor, ne t'arrête pas!“ There’s a beat that seems painfully long, and then the pressure returns. It’s harder this time, seemingly more purposeful. Christophe lets out a shaking merci, keeping himself as still possible until he hears Victor move. He feels rather than sees the hand at his jaw, his head tipped up until he meets Victor’s eyes. There’s a flush across his pale cheeks and his lips reddened as if teeth had been biting them not too long ago.

“Tu veux m'embrasser?” Victor practically purrs, his thumb coming up to run along Christophe’s bottom lip and there’s no way he doesn’t feel the shot, hot breaths coming from him against his skin.

“Oui, Victor, s’il te plaît.” Christophe presses a kiss to the pad of Victor’s thumb, knowing full well his cheeks are scarlet by now. He can feel the heat of them even with all his attention fixed on the two points of contact he’s been given.

“Alors sois un bon garçon et je le ferai.” Victor leans in close to say that, his nose brushing Christophe’s own. The pressure increases on his cock, a whine coming from him as his eyes slip shut. Victor’s hand on his jaw tightens, “regarde moi.” Christophe just about manages an apology, reopening his eyes and fixing them back on Victor. “Si Bon, mon chou. Tu es toujours si bon.” The praise sends a wave of warmth through him, though it’s not surprising. Praise is a kink Christophe is well aware of having. “Utilise la botte.” That however is a surprise and it takes him a moment to figure out what Victor means. As if feeling his hesitation, Victor gives a small rock of his foot against Christophe’s crotch and that’s all he needs.

It starts slow at first, small rolls of his hips to rub his cock against Victor’s boot. It’s delicious torture, made all the better by the fact that he could swear he can feel the ridges of the sole through the thin material of his boxers. A soft, desperate noise leaves him and he continues his movements, his hands behind his back where Victor told him to keep them though his nails are now dug into his palms in an effort to keep them there. Murmured praise comes from Victor as his hand moves round into Christophe’s hair, tightening and holding his head just right to make sure their eye contact remains.

“Ça fait du bien... C'est bon, continue.” This time Victor’s voice comes with a shaky breath of his own, though the grip on his hair and the pressure on Christophe’s cock remain unwavering. “Tu t'en sors très bien.”

“S’il te plaît, embrasse-moi…..s’il te plaît, Victor….” The corners of Victor’s mouth quirk up as his teeth sink into bottom lip, and Christophe could swear the flush on his cheeks deepens.

“Je ne crois pas que tu l'aies encore mérité.” His voice is teasing, his pupils blown wide as his thumb once again runs along Christophe’s bottom lip then slides it into his mouth. Without thinking, he closes around it and gently sucks on it, running his tongue along the digit, the whole time keeping his eyes on Victor. A sharp intake of breath comes from him as he watches Christophe. “Je pense savoir ce que tu peux faire.” Slowly, he slides his thumb out from between Christophe’s lips and moves his hand away to rest the zipper of his suit trousers. The time it takes him to undo it and lift his hips to push the trousers down seems achingly long, and Christophe almost pitches forward when Victor’s cock bobs free. “Tu sais quoi faire.”

Giving oral has always been a favourite of Christophe’s, even more so than receiving, and the look on his face as he shuffles closer to Victor is almost blasphemous in how awe-filled it is. He leans forward, gently nuzzling up against Victor’s length. His eyes slip closed as he presses a soft kiss to the heated skin then continues up, pausing every so often to nuzzle or blow hot air lightly across Victor’s cock. When he reaches the tip, he presses a kiss to it then runs his tongue along the slit where pre-cum is already leaking. His hand comes up without thinking to wrap round the base then he hesitates and looks up at Victor.

“Je peux?” He brushes his finger tips against Victor’s sac, looking to meet his eyes.

“Oui….oui, s’il te plaît…” Christophe can’t help but smirk. Oh, how the tables have turned. His fingers trail up until he can wrap them round the base of Victor’s cock and his lips round the tip.

He starts slow, happy to take his time, and focuses his attention on just the head. He sucks and licks and kisses, revelling in the noises that come from the man above him. His free hand rubs at Victor’s thigh, finding all the spots where he knows he’s weakest, that he knows will make him tremble. All the while, he’s taking his sweet time working his way down the length of Victor’s cock, allowing himself the indulgence of truly worshiping it for as long as he’s allowed. The sounds coming from Victor are glorious and Christophe revels in them as he lets him sink that bit further down his throat, his lips finally meeting his hand. He looks up to meet Victor’s eyes and does his best to look innocent, or as much as one can with a cock in between their reddened lips, then moves his hand away and continues to sink down. Victor fits down his throat like he was meant to be there and Christophe can only close his eyes, making soft noises of contentment.

After a few moments, he slides back up and off, running a thumb along his bottom lip and looking up at Victor. The look on his face is that of pure sadness, his bottom lip stuck out for a few solid seconds before he speaks,

“Christophe…..Hristanya…” The Russian slipping out is all Christophe needs to know that Victor’s close and he’s all too happy to return his attention to his cock, swallowing him down easily now. He’ll be amused later by how impossible it apparently is for Victor to remain the dominant one. For now, he’s focused on keeping him as far down his throat as possible.

Another sign that Victor’s close is the slow experimental rolls of his hips that begin as his hand tightens again in Christophe’s hair. He relaxes his throat as much as possible and moves his hand to Victor’s thigh, urging him to continue and move faster if he wants, and Christophe knows he wants. They both want. A moan escapes him as the movement of Victor’s hips continues and its mirrored by a similar sound from him, both of them sounding desperate now. It doesn’t take much for the rolls to become harder and the rhythm to go erratic. The noises from Victor go up in pitch and that’s when Christophe chooses to pull off, even as it causes the most needy whine he’s ever heard.

But he has plans.

His hand continues the work his mouth had been doing and within only a few strokes, Victor’s cumming hot across Christophe’s mouth, his cheeks and his chest. He continues to move his hand, smirking at the little jolts that go through Victor’s body as he moves into over sensitive territory and for a moment Christophe debates giving the head of his cock a few little kisses just to really take advantage of this. He doesn’t get to continue this thought though because Victor’s pushing his hand away and sliding off the seat into a heated pile in his lap. The kisses he’d begged for earlier are given eagerly now, Victor able to taste his own cum as his tongue slides into Christophe’s mouth, making small needy noises into his mouth.

“Laisse-moi…” A warm hand slips down his front down into his boxers, and the way he’s jerked off is neither elegant nor slow but it’s what he needs. What they both need. It has Christophe groaning loud and unabashedly against Victor’s mouth, his hands desperately trying to hold onto any part of him.

He cums hard, shaking and practically sobbing, his head falling onto Victor’s shoulder where hot skin muffles his noises. The pair of them stay in their positions, breathless gasps taken of each other’s air, neither inclined to move just yet.

“Victor, tu es tellement magnifique…. Mon dieu. Tu es vraiment incroyable,” Christophe says, his hands finally finding Victor’s jawline and their lips find each others easily after that. The movements are easy, something they don’t have to think about it and Christophe thinks perhaps he could stay like this and kiss Victor forever.

Eventually though, they do slip apart through complaining joints and a need to wash drying spend off their skin. Christophe mourns the separation as soon as it happens but follows Victor into the hotel’s shower almost unconsciously. He washes his platinum hair reverently, letting the silken strands slip between his fingers before trailing them down the expanse of Victor’s slim chest. He really is beautiful.

Once they’re out and dried, he begins dressing and collecting his things, never expecting to be invited to stay but still ever hopeful. A soft voice pipes up as he pulls trousers up his legs,

“You’re not leaving, are you?” Christophe pauses and turns to face Victor where he’s curled up in the crisp white sheets of the bed. His hair is loose, spilling over his shoulders and he looks practically angelic. There’s a beat where Christophe feels lost and then he puts a smile on his face,

“Not if you don’t want me to.” Victor shakes his head and holds his hands out, weakly gripping and opening them until the smile of Christophe’s face is real. He leaves a trail of clothes in his wake as he makes his way to bed, sliding in and finding the sheets already warmed by Victor’s body. He curls around him easily, nuzzling into his hair and breathing in his scent. He’d stay as long as Victor wanted him, in honesty.

**Author's Note:**

> Translation Guide (done in order of appearance) (thank you to Nastia for corrections)
> 
> “Qu'est-ce-qu'il y a, Christophe? Je ne comprend pas.” “What was that, Christophe? I don’t understand”
> 
> “S'il te plaît, Viktor, ne t'arrête pas! “Please, Victor. Don’t stop!”
> 
> “Tu veux m'embrasser?” “Do you want to kiss me?”
> 
> “Oui, Victor, s’il te plaît.” “Yes, Victor, please.”
> 
> “Alors sois un bon garçon et je le ferai.” “So be a good boy, and I will.”
> 
> “regarde moi.” “Look at me.”
> 
> “Si Bon, mon chou. Tu es toujours si bon.” “Good, mon Chou (literally translates as my sweet bun but its a pet name). You are always so good.”
> 
> “Utilise la botte.” “Use the boot.”
> 
> “Ça fait du bien... C'est bon, continue.” “Good…Good, keep going.”
> 
> “Tu t'en sors très bien.” “You’re doing so well.”
> 
> “S’il te plaît, embrasse-moi…..s’il te plaît, Victor….” “Please, kiss me… Please, Victor.”
> 
> “Je ne crois pas que tu l'aies encore mérité.” “I don’t think you’ve earned it yet.”
> 
> “Je pense savoir ce que tu peux faire.” “I think I know what you can do.”
> 
> “Tu sais quoi faire.” “You know what to do.”
> 
> “Je peux?” “May I?”
> 
> “Oui….oui, s’il te plaît…” “Yes… Yes, please.”
> 
> “Laisse-moi…” “Let me…”
> 
> “Victor, tu es tellement magnifique…. Mon dieu. Tu es vraiment incroyable,” “Victor, you are so magnificent… My god, you are truly incredible.”


End file.
